


Investigating the Stables

by ForbiddenArcanum



Category: Furry (Fandom), Original Work
Genre: Candy, Consensual Kink, Fae & Fairies, M/M, candyfurs, good vibes all around, plush transformation, plushfurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:03:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29907051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForbiddenArcanum/pseuds/ForbiddenArcanum
Summary: Charlie Chocobun and his citrus friend, Ben, investigate a store that's emanating a lot more magic than mortals are capable of producing. What sinister things lie beyond its plush-filled displays?
Kudos: 4





	Investigating the Stables

“It’s really obvious.”

“Yeah, to us. You gotta remember, Ben, mortals don’t see the same stuff we do. Those dudes don’t have the sight.”

“Is that why Wren wears glasses?”

“What?”

“He says he has an assy stigma. Does that block the sight?”

“Oh yeah, that thing. No, I think that’s just a weird thing that happens to them. Their eyeballs are the wrong shape.”

“Why don’t they just push their eyes into the right shape?”

“Wren says it hurts. Like, a  _ lot _ .”

“Oh.”

Charlie sighed. Ever since he moved into Wren’s house, he hadn’t met too many candyfurs. They, like most fae, were not a terribly big fan of dabbling in mortal affairs beyond the usual kidnapping, switcheroo, or ironic punishment. The one exception he could note was Ben, who was always an outlier. Now, however, the two of them stood in front of something anathema to his preconceptions: a faerie fort that was emanating magical energy beyond anything they’d seen in the mortal world. Granted, it was made from stone and perfectly square, but Charlie was a living chocolate bunny instead of a woodland sprite, so he was willing to make a few exceptions.

‘Stables of Fun’, the sign read. Inside of the display windows sat plush upon plush, toy upon toy, stacked higher and higher until it was nearly impossible to see inside. To the common eye, it would seem it was a grand display — but to Charlie, he knew that it was more to hide the goings-on of the interior.

“Can we go inside? Please?!” Ben jumped up and down, looking up eagerly at Charlie.

“Why are you asking  _ me _ permission? You’re twice as old as me, dude.”

“... Oh yeah, I am!”

Ben nearly took the door off of its hinges when he bolted inside. Charlie laughed, sticking his hand in his pocket as he followed the excitable lemon lion.

“Sir, I must ask you to please stop doing that.” A rather rotund sheep with button eyes glanced down at Ben, who was casually tugging at his plush wool with his sharp claws.

“But it’s so soooft! It’s in my itty bitty kitty committee instincts! Democracy wills it!”

“I’m sorry about him,” Charlie said, stepping forwards. “Ben, why don’t you go find a plush to take home?”

“And here I thought  _ I _ was the older one!”

“Are you denying free stuff?”

“Not if I want to stay in office!” Ben once again took off with lightning speed.

“Now,” Charlie smiled at the sheep before him. “You are  _ definitely _ not like the other sheep I’ve seen on this plane of existence.”

“Nonsense!” The sheep took a deep bow, leaning on his cane. “I am but a humble shop owner.”

“That much is true,” Charlie said, shaking his head. “I have no doubt about that — but you’re not  _ normal _ .”

“Few are!”

“Then say it. ‘I am a completely normal sheep with no exotic powers’.”

“Friend, why are we playing this game?” The sheep leaned back. “I feel you know the result just as well as I.”

“What  _ is _ there but the game?”

“A fair point! And to that end, I know my assumptions aren’t incorrect.”

“May I have your name?”

“You may not, but you  _ may _ call me Arthur.”

“Of course,” Charlie smirked. “And you  _ may _ call me Charlie.”

“I’m not entirely sure if that even works between us. I feel it would just be a meaningless exchange of words.”

“Only a mortal would cling to them so. Regardless,” Charlie leaned against the doorway. “What’s made you set up shop here? And what exactly do you… offer?”

“Well, let no secrets be kept between us!” Arthur beckoned Charlie deeper into the store, walking with a wide gait. His enormous, plush feet made nary a sound on the carpeted floor. “Welcome to  _ Stables of Fun _ . It’s a nice, relaxing place away from all the weariness and chaos the world brings to your doorstep! Instead, let yourself relax amongst our many wares.” Arthur gestured to the many, many shelves around them. “Perhaps you’ll even attend one of our events!” Arthur then shifted his focus to a small corner lined with large books and set with beanbags. At the back, a large blue lion plush suit read aloud to a group of children, who eagerly took in every word. Ben sat among them, his eyes glimmering with some mix of recognition and attentiveness.

“It certainly seems attractive! Everything here seems so cozy, and— “ Charlie sniffed the air, his nose twitching. “I’m smelling cocoa more than usual.”

“Right you are! Come, come.” Arthur moved further into the back, where a large machine was set up, along with an entire wall’s worth of small plushies, clothes, and accessories. “You’re smelling all the scent pouches!”

“Scent pouches?”

“Oh, yes, yes. Milk, cocoa, strawberry — even cinnamon! All of them, right over here.” Arthur tapped a hanging selection of small, white bags. “Oh, do watch this child. It’s always so lovely.”

Charlie kept his eyes on the section as a gigantic, plush clydesdale stomped into view. A small boy held his hand, following him as best he could. With a nod from the clydesdale, he eagerly dashed to the wall of plushies, picking up a small horse. The fabric fell and hung from his fingers, completely empty inside. He ran about, looking at every clothing option, settling on a pair of teal overalls and a straw hat. Finally, he handed off the collection of small fabrics to the clydesdale, who gestured to the wall of pouches.

“Uh…” The boy took his time, squinting at the wall. “Oh, uhm, uhm… chocolate!”

The clydesdale took a pouch from the shelf along with a small felt heart, and sat down next to the machine. With surprising dexterity for his soft and thick hooves, he quickly dressed the horse plush and used the machine to fill it to the brim with stuffing. The scent pouch and heart disappeared into the fluff — and with a single trip through the sewing machine, the plush was sealed and finished. When it was handed off, the boy’s grin grew from ear to ear before he dashed off back to his mother.

“Golly! He sure is happy, huh?”

“As is the case with many of our customers! Immense satisfaction.”

“Because they’re  _ enchanted _ , right?”

“Not so!”

“Then they’re not actually plushies.”

“Right color, wrong place.”

“I… they’re… plushies but not actually?”

“That’s fair, I should have used better wording. You’ll find that there  _ is _ something rather magical, but I assure you that our products are mundane. Wonderful and delightful and ever-so-cuddly — but mundane.”

Charlie looked about. The sheer amount of magic flowing from this building was so immense that it was difficult to pinpoint an origin. Arthur himself was obviously one such node, but he certainly didn’t account for all of it.

“Well, is it the building?”

“To some extent. You remain among the powers for long enough, you yourself gain powers much like them — but it is more so like the heat of a blanket from a warm body than it is  _ true _ magic.”

“I think I know what you mean. If it isn’t the building or the wares, though, the only thing left is…” Charlie glanced towards the large, plush clydesdale. “Oh.”

“There we are. Each and every one of them! Vessels of cuddly, soft, impeccably wonderful fluff.”

“So they’re like little batteries?”

“Perhaps!”

“Isn’t that… a lot to control? I mean, no offense, but you don’t really give off the whole, uh… Oberon vibe.”

“Oh, no, no, not so!”

“I’m finding that’s the word of the day.”

“Be a little more astute, and perhaps it will change!”

“So if you’re not controlling them, what… are they doing? Are they like brownies? I thought they were more about keeping house.”

“Each and every one of my employees is… well, an employee!” Arthur gently patted the clydesdale on his shoulder, smiling. “You see, they’ve all come to an agreement with me.”

“ _ There’s _ the fae malice.”

“I really must ask you to stop making such grand assumptions from your pittance of information! You peg me all wrong — unless that is  _ your _ game.”

“No, it’s just… what do you get out of all this, if not… names, power, and fun?”

“Why, the fun is where it all lies! Names and power are certainly tools of the trade, but I’ve found fun to be much more successful in groups.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m just… a little more used to Ben than anyone else.” Charlie peered over his shoulder, where Ben still sat in the reading corner. He wondered if Ben had even blinked once. “Even excluding him, fae don’t usually make themselves so amicable to mortals.”

“A fair point, my friend. You see, however, ‘amicable’ is the name of the game! When you extend an open hoof to these fine fellows, you find they long for fun and relaxation just as much as we do!” Arthur pinched the cheek of the clydesdale. “Why, each and every one of these plush fellows used to be mortal themselves! Now, however, they find themselves enjoying a more relaxed lifestyle with my rules.”

“And what  _ are _ those rules?”

“Such an accusatory tone!”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“Rule number one is that they must  _ want _ this life! Actively! Consistently! My good friend here had his doubts when we began, and so my magic simply would not take hold! He shuffled off the suit, we talked it out, and now…” Arthur pushed deep, deep into the clydesdale’s chest. His soft hoof didn’t make contact with a single solid thing. “He has given himself over to a softer life.”

“Oh! So if he ever stops wanting it, he’ll just… materialize?”

“Precisely!”

“And they don’t need to eat or anything.”

“Not once!”

“What’s rule number two, then?”

“They must, in exchange, work in my store. Read to the children, assist them with their plushies, and run the checkout whenever I am away. Of course, if they find another fellow who wishes he could become a big, fluffy friend like us — they are to give them a small card, whereupon they will return in the night. There, they will find the store has ‘inexplicably’ changed to our more… appealing side.  _ Stables of Love _ !”

“A strip club?”

“Something of the sort. Moreso… a festive night of whatever feels right.”

“A sex club.”

“Perhaps you would like to attend?” Arthur handed Charlie a single slip of glossy paper that read ‘admit one’, followed by a cartoon drawing of a stable.

“It is… tempting. But won’t I get turned into a plush?”

“Well, you say that like it’s a bad thing!” Arthur put a hoof where his heart would have been. “Besides, haven’t you been listening? It’s only something that would happen should you truly desire it! You can if you’d like to. Completely on your own time. Otherwise, you can visit as much as you want, no commitment.”

“This is… awfully nice sounding.” Charlie crossed his arms. “I mean, what’s the catch? There’s  _ always _ a catch.”

“Well, I do operate under a… say,  _ grander _ being… of which there are many, but this one is mine, and so forth.”

“Your own Titania, then?”

“You said Oberon earlier.”

“I like to switch it up.”

“Regardless, it is… not entirely incorrect. By helping these people to relax, they work for me and further the goals of my associate, which makes them happy with me and me happy with everyone.”

“Well… let’s say I wanted to… try it?”

“Of course, of course.” Arthur beckoned Charlie forward, pushing open a door that read ‘employees only’. Charlie paused just before it, squinting at the sign. Arthur looked over his shoulder and laughed. “Oh,  _ come now _ .”

“Listen, man, you know how we are!”

“It’s not going to turn you into an employee just by  _ walking through the door _ .”

“...Or by any other means?”

“Mister Charlie.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Charlie put up his hands, sighing and stepping through the threshold. Though he braced himself, he was relieved to find no magical change suddenly rewriting his entire physical form. Instead, he found the inside of the room to be wonderfully lit, cozily furnished, and lined with yet more plushies.

“If you would take a seat right here,” Arthur said, patting the rose-colored wicker chair with his hoof. “We can begin whenever you’re ready.”

_ Nothing to lose, really, _ Charlie thought.  _ Plus… I could use a break from everything. _ He sat down in the chair, the floral cushion under him surprisingly soft. He straightened himself out, brushed off his letterman, and nodded to Arthur.

“You’re awfully stiff.” Arthur pushed the edge of his cane into Charlie’s chest, making him lean back in the chair. “You need to take a deep breath in… and out.”

Charlie complied, Arthur’s cane tapping on the floor as if to punctuate his sentences. Charlie focused himself, loosening his shoulders and timing his breaths. Breathe in, tap, breathe out, tap…

It wasn’t long before the tapping became as natural as the ticking of a clock. Time progressed, the world moved, and Charlie breathed. In, out, in, out, over and over until he could feel himself leaning against the cushions with no command from within or without.

“Relaxed. Good.” The sheep’s voice was as soft as his wool, gently cradling Charlie deeper into the seat. “You’re going to feel some pressure.”

“Isn’t pressure the opposite of relaxing?”

“Oh, a funny bunny, aren’t you?” Charlie couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. His chest bounced with a chuckle — and as he did so, he felt the firm end of Arthur’s cane touch the back of his hand. He  _ did _ feel pressure… but nothing horrid. It was as though he was suddenly given permission, as though he was  _ allowed _ to take up more space around himself. His chocolate body gave way to fluff as his hand expanded, becoming a thick and fluffy mitt of cocoa-scented polyfill.

“That… feels… something.”

“It certainly does, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Charlie mumbled, eyes going half lidded. Arthur’s cane traced a line up Charlie’s arm, his sculpted muscles fading into ambiguous softness, becoming clouds upon clouds within him. Instead of a hard shell, only tightly woven fleece remained, the onset of which showed little signs of stopping.

The cane crested over onto his chest, where his taffy jacket suddenly took on a solid leather look, and his chest began to puff outwards. Though he was used to folks complimenting his pecs, he never had them be much bigger than what some would consider normal. This, of course, did not hold with Arthur’s vision, nor his own. A plush was soft, pillowy, and sweet. If his pecs had to fill themselves with stuffing to achieve it, so be it.

Moving downwards, his body expanded more and more. He felt his normal, defining curves become just a tad tighter as seams ran up and down his sides, tapering his expanding waist into an almost cartoonish v-shape. His thighs pressed against the sides of the wicker chair, cushion suddenly unable to be felt under the cushions he was currently growing himself. Calves meant little when you didn’t have knees anymore, and he was  _ delighted _ to find that his sneakers not only stayed intact, but that they grew along with his big plush bunny feet.

“W-wow… I’m…” Charlie wiggled his toes — or rather, tried to. The entire joint appeared to move. It felt cozy. Warm. Soft. Huggable. He could sit like this for hours upon hours, never once wanting to move. He didn’t even need to ask for Arthur to finish up his other arm, leaving his body disproportionate only to his head.

“You’re…?”

“I’m just… gonna stay like this for a while… right?”

“As I said. As long as you like.”

“Yeah, I…” Charlie covered his mouth with his new, enormous paw, letting out a soft yawn. “I need… I need to rest.”

“Need. Much more than a want. Do not let me keep you from your slumber, then. Are you ready?” Arthur moved to touch the end of his cane to Charlie’s head, but a soft paw stopped him. “Ah, not so?”

“No, it’s just…” Another yawn. “My hair is made of caramel… don’t want it to get all over your cane.”

“Ah. How considerate.” Arthur chuckled before giving Charlie a light boop on the nose. “All the same. Enjoy your vacation.”

“Oh, I will.” Charlie smiled as he saw his muzzle puff up into soft fleece and a shiny, plastic nose. The change spread over his mouth — no more talking necessary — and moved up over his eyes. Black stitching signified where he might have spoken from, and two large orange spheres of plastic marked his eyes. His hair, which would have been a plushmaker’s nightmare, neatly stitched itself into every fluffy spike without a single issue. As the last stitch completed, a small tag appeared on his sneaker with the  _ Stables of Fun _ logo, and Charlie’s new plush body sank into the chair as though it had no muscles. Relaxed, serene… and almost lethargic, as though it  _ could _ move, but simply chose not to do so.

When Arthur approached Ben a second time, he was keen to keep Charlie between himself and the lion, lest he be attacked by his little candy claws again.

“Excuse me, Benjamin?”

“Nope! And don’t keep trying!”

“Young sir,” Arthur offered.

“I dunno if that’s right, but I’ll take it, I guess.”

“Your friend implored you to find a plush to take home, yes?”

“Yeah! I’ve been  _ trying _ , but he keeps saying he can’t leave so easily!” Ben huffed, looking towards the story corner. The blue lion waved sheepishly.

“Oh, I see! Well, perhaps I can interest you in this one.” Arthur handed over the enormous plush that was once his chocolate bunny friend.

“Oh! It looks like Charlie!”

“One could say it’s very inspired by him.”

“I’d think so! I mean, it’s… basically him!”

“Yes, it’s very much  _ in his spirit _ .”

“You say things funny. Hey, where  _ is _ Charlie?”

“He’s… with you, right now! In more ways than one.”

Ben tilted his head.

“Did he go home?”

“I…” Arthur sighed. “He said he needed a vacation. I’m sure you’ll find him at home if you take the plush back there with you.”

“Well, okay! Uh…” Ben coughed, then rummaged in his shorts, pulling out a small pastel wallet. “How much… am I to owe you? Did I say that right?”

“Oh, no, no. Don’t worry about it. Take him home for free.”

“Oh.” Ben looked almost disappointed, shoving what appeared to be orange slips of monopoly money back into his wallet. ‘Okay! Thank you very much! I’ll take good care of him!”

“You take care, now.” Arthur waved.

“I just said I would,” Ben called over his shoulder. “I’ll take care of him!”

“Oh… have a good day, young sir.”

“Still dunno about that, but you too, old mister!”

The door jangled on his way out, and Arthur leaned on his cane with a sigh.

“What a duo… I could stand to have them around more often.”

With any luck — and the tickets he slipped into Charlie’s jacket — he would.


End file.
